Iron Flats Exile: Shifter Realms, #1

By Elle Thorne

A Brand New Series from Elle Thorne, author of the Shifters Forever Worlds!

Rachel Kane's recovering from a broken heart. And she's broke. She's flat out broke and homeless since she found her boyfriend in her best friend's arms in the home that he and Rachel shared. A home he owned, so of course, she's out on her ear now. She's got an invitation to take an opportunity that takes her out of state and pays for her living expenses.

Maybe some clouds do have silver linings. She'll take that offer to go to Nevada and study mustangs.

Luke Everhart's got one thing on his mind. Being left the hell alone. He's been exiled from his pack—and that's just fine—and now makes his home near Iron Flats Mesa on the Virginia Range in Nevada. He gets along great with the mustangs that make their home there, and they're the only company he needs. In fact, he's their self-appointed guardian, protecting them from some of the ranchers and government bureaucrats who want to manipulate disrupt their freedom. And wouldn't you know it, there's a certain woman who's been skulking around, checking out the mustangs, making notes, riding a damned UTV all over the range. He knows she's from the government, and he has zero trust for the Bureau of Land Management. He's wreaked havoc on their expeditions before. Little Miss Hot Researcher has another think coming if she believes she's going to be able to turn in any research on his band of horses.

How's Rachel supposed to complete her job when she's harassed by wolves and a hunky, muscular, blue-eyed, dark-skinned hottie who doesn't want to do much more than grunt his responses and howl at the moon?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbed Borders Press
• Release date: May 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393182672

Book preview

Iron Flats Exile

Iron Flats Exile

Shifter Realms

Elle Thorne

Contents

Iron Flats Exile

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Excerpt: Iron Flats Justice

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Afterword

The Shifters Forever Worlds

Shifter Realms

Sci-Fi Romance by Elle Thorne

Thank You So Much!

About Elle

Elle’s Newsletter

Copyright © 2020 by Elle Thorne

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Iron Flats Exile

Rachel Kane’s recovering from a broken heart. And she’s broke. She’s flat out broke and homeless since she found her boyfriend in her best friend’s arms in the home that he and Rachel shared. A home he owned, so of course, she’s out on her ear now. She’s got an invitation to take an opportunity that takes her out of state and pays for her living expenses.

---

Maybe some clouds do have silver linings. She’ll take that offer to go to Nevada and study mustangs.

---

Luke Everhart’s got one thing on his mind. Being left the hell alone. He’s been exiled from his pack—and that’s just fine—and now makes his home near Iron Flats Mesa on the Virginia Range in Nevada. He gets along great with the mustangs that make their home there, and they’re the only company he needs. In fact, he’s their self-appointed guardian, protecting them from some of the ranchers and government bureaucrats who want to manipulate disrupt their freedom. And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a certain woman who’s been skulking around, checking out the mustangs, making notes, riding a damned UTV all over the range. He knows she’s from the government, and he has zero trust for the Bureau of Land Management. He’s wreaked havoc on their expeditions before. Little Miss Hot Researcher has another think coming if she believes she’s going to be able to turn in any research on his band of horses.

---

How’s Rachel supposed to complete her job when she’s harassed by wolves and a hunky, muscular, blue-eyed, dark-skinned hottie who doesn’t want to do much more than grunt his responses?

Prologue

Houston, Texas

Rachel Kane juggled her keys and her latte and her bag and today’s mail from one hand to the other. It wasn’t bad enough it was damned near 100 degrees in Houston, and the AC in her car was on the fritz. But now her hair was windblown and a mess, she was sure, and her face was probably red as the dickens after the drive in five o’clock traffic down Montrose. Traffic would be a generous description. Because of a fender bender, freaking Montrose Boulevard was a damned parking lot.

And her iced latte was sweating up a storm in her palm, slick as hell, threatening to spill while she tried to get the door open. Where the hell was her boyfriend? Couldn’t Michael hear her out here fumbling? His truck was in the driveway, so he was definitely home. Well, unless someone stopped by to pick him up to go somewhere. But he hadn’t told her he had plans tonight. They moved in together a year ago. Her first serious boyfriend after college and her education ended three years ago.

One could say her love life had been nonexistent in school. And for those three lonely years after. One could also say Rachel Kane was more interested in pursuing her education and her career after her grandfather had passed, leaving her alone in the world, but at least with enough money to get through college, get a degree, and then a soul-stealing job as a data analyst for a no-name branch of the local Houston government. But hey, she had her boyfriend. So what more did she need from life? It didn’t matter if her job didn’t exactly light any fires in her. She had Michael.

Right now, she wished she had Michael. To help her unlock the door and go inside. She jutted her hip out, leaning against the wall as she reached for—

Shit! Her latte was slipping out of her hand. She instinct-snatched it tighter.

Latte explosion! All over her favorite shirt and her favorite shoes! Damn it.

Double shit. The damned plastic cup had given under the pressure and lost the battle. It caved like a paper boat in a whirlpool.

And if that wasn’t enough, she realized her face was dripping the foamy, milky, coffee concoction.

She heaved a sigh and let the cup go. She’d clean it up later. The mail had a few brown splatters, but who cared?

Rachel pouted at the sight of her ruined shoes. She’d never get the coffee out of that fabric. She never even wore them on days which threatened to rain. And now this. With one hand suddenly a lot freer, she snagged her keys from her bag and opened the door, pushing on it with the hip that had already been resting against the wood.

The sound of a giggle reached her ears. Michael was home? Why the heck didn’t he open the door?

Next, the sound of moans. The type of moans which only happened during sex. He was watching porn? Was that why he hadn’t heard her?

She pushed her anger back. Thinking how she’d walk in and catch him doing a one-handed make-out sesh. Just him, his hand, his cock, and whatever he was watching on TV. She wasn’t a fan of her man watching porn. In fact, if pressed, she’d say she didn’t appreciate it at all, but at this moment, she was kind of turned on by the idea of going in there and giving him the real thing. A nice, sweaty—sweet because of the latte—tangle in the sheets. She set everything down on the counter.

She heard his moan. Oh, if she planned to get some pleasure out of this herself, she’d better hurry and catch him before he came undone. She kicked off the shoes as she reached the carpet and headed for the stairs to their bedroom. She tiptoed, climbing the steps one at a time, unbuttoning her shirt—ruined, anyway, probably—dropped it on the third step. Shimmied out of her skirt, dropped it on the sixth step up. It was black and polyester or some kind of easily washable fabric, so the latte hadn’t ruined it.

The moans were louder. Was he turning the volume up with one hand and with the other pleasing himself?

She spun around and dropped, sitting on the stairs, peeled off stockings, jumped up, and figured she was close enough to hustle up the last eight steps and fling the door open.

Hmm. Maybe flinging the door open might scare the piss out of him—or the boner out of him. She was best off sneaking in.

She took stealthy steps to the door, wondering why he’d closed it when he was home alone, anyway. Hand on the handle, she turned it slowly, then opened it with measured deliberateness.

Thought you’d want some company, she said with the stealthiest voice she could manage.

Fuck, Rachel! What the hell? Michael’s voice was shrill. It could have shattered glass.

So could the shriek that came from the blonde who straddled him, reverse cowgirl style.

Shock happened first. Rachel stared. No. This wasn’t real. She was not witnessing her boyfriend nailing her best friend. Or her best friend nailing her boyfriend. This wasn’t real. It